ÆNEÏS, BOOK VII. ARGUMENT. _King Latinus entertains Æneas, and promises him his only daughter, Lavinia, the heiress of his crown. Turnus, being in love with her, favoured by her mother, and stirred up by Juno and Alecto, breaks the treaty which was made, and engages in his quarrel Mezentius, Camilla, Messapus, and many other of the neighbouring princes; whose forces, and the names of their commanders, are particularly related._ And thou, O matron of immortal fame! Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name; Caieta still the place is called from thee, The nurse of great Æneas' infancy. Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains; Thy name ('tis all a ghost can have) remains. Now, when the prince her funeral rites had paid, He ploughed the Tyrrhene seas with sails displayed. From land a gentle breeze arose by night, } Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright, } And the sea trembled with her silver light. } Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run, (Circe the rich, the daughter of the Sun,) A dangerous coast!--The goddess wastes her days In joyous songs; the rocks resound her lays. In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night, And cedar brands supply her father's light. From hence were heard, rebellowing to the main, The roars of lions that refuse the chain, The grunts of bristled boars, and groans of bears, And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors' ears. These from their caverns, at the close of night, Fill the sad isle with horror and affright. Darkling they mourn their fate, whom Circe's power, (That watched the moon, and planetary hour,) With words and wicked herbs, from human kind Had altered, and in brutal shapes confined. Which monsters lest the Trojans' pious host Should bear, or touch upon the enchanted coast, Propitious Neptune steered their course by night, With rising gales, that sped their happy flight. Supplied with these, they skim the sounding shore, And hear the swelling surges vainly roar. Now, when the rosy morn began to rise, And waved her saffron streamer through the skies, When Thetis blushed in purple, not her own, And from her face the breathing winds were blown, A sudden silence sate upon the sea, And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way. The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood, Which thick with shades, and a brown horror, stood: Betwixt the trees the Tyber took his course, With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force, That drove the sand along, he took his way, And rolled his yellow billows to the sea. About him, and above, and round the wood, The birds that haunt the borders of his flood, That bathed within, or basked upon his side, To tuneful songs their narrow throats applied. The captain gives command; the joyful train Glide through the gloomy shade, and leave the main. Now, Erato! thy poet's mind inspire,